


Linger

by busylittlebee



Category: GOT7
Genre: 2Jae, Alternate Universe - 1990s, Car rides with loud music playing, Falling In Love, Fluff, Light Angst, M/M, Mentions of Death, Mild Language, One Shot, Photography geek Jaebeom, Romance, mixtapes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-22
Updated: 2020-01-22
Packaged: 2021-02-27 09:33:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,913
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22354897
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/busylittlebee/pseuds/busylittlebee
Summary: Remembering you standing quiet in the rainAs I ran to your heart to be nearAnd we kissed as the sky fell in"Pictures of You", by The Cure (1989)
Relationships: Choi Youngjae/Im Jaebum | JB
Comments: 11
Kudos: 47





	Linger

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ourspring](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ourspring/gifts).



> I know this fic is long overdue, but I still hope you enjoy it nonetheless! I mentioned the idea for this au a long time ago and that was basically what got us interacting more through dms, so I'm gifting this to you because I am so glad to have met you and that we bonded so much over 2jae and Got7 in general. ilysm and I'mso happy to be friends with you uwu ♡♡

The year 1995 began with a cold, dry winter. It was mid-January when it started happening. The boat would come closer to the port in the early morning, when the sun was barely starting to rise over the horizon. Jaebeom would look up from the mess of nets and fish to find the same figure standing near the docks, hands in his pockets and eyes lost in the sea. He would help his dad unload all the fish from the boat and, by the time they were done, the figure was gone.

This kept happening for a few weeks, until Jaebeom’s mum brought up a new topic at dinner on a Wednesday night.

“Did you notice? A family moved into the old house down the street. I heard they’re from Seoul.”

“Really?” his dad asked. “Have you met them?”

“Not yet. I think they own a bookshop in the main square.” She looked at Jaebeom to see his reaction, giving a soft smile. “Thought you’d like to hear the news.”

And he certainly did. Jaebeom looked up from his plate, intrigued.

“Yeah, it’s good news,” he admitted, although he didn’t have as much time for books now that he worked with his father.

“They have a son, too. About your age, probably.”

“Maybe you could show him around. He’s new in town,” his father piped up, which made Jaebeom chuckle.

“I’m 21. If he’s around my age, then he’s old enough to manage just fine on his own.”

Despite this, Jaebeom found himself walking down to the town’s main square the next Saturday morning. He wanted to see what the fuss was all about and how the bookshop looked.

There was a small ‘ding’ when he pushed the door open, the little bell revealing his presence. The shop wasn't too big, but the shelves were already stacked full of books, and there were even more in the cardboard boxes scattered over the floor. Jaebeom was taking a look at the non-fiction section when a man emerged from behind the counter.

“Sorry, we’re not open yet.”

Jaebeom turned around with a jolt, like a kid that’s been caught stealing candy.

“Oh, I didn’t know, there was no sign at the door so I--”

“Don’t worry, you can look around if you want. And if you don’t mind the mess, of course.” The man let out a soft but hearty laugh.

“Oh no, it’s fine, I can come back some other time.”

The door opened with another ‘ding’, revealing a young man carrying a huge brown box. His raven hair hung over his face, bangs a bit too long, as he placed the box on the counter.

“There you go, that was the last one,” he said in a voice that reminded Jaebeom of spring.

“Thank you, son,” the man replied before turning to Jaebeom again. “My body is not as strong as it used to be.”

The boy had turned around too, eyes curious as they took in Jaebeom’s form. Jaebeom returned the look, unashamed by his own curiosity.

“Hi,” the other simply said, a grin stretching over his face. He had a little mole under his eye. It looked like it had been painted on.

So that must be the son of the owners, Jaebeom thought to himself as he hastened to reply.

“Hello.”

“Didn’t know we had customers so early!”

“We don’t. This young man here didn’t know we weren’t open yet,” his father explained. “I need to go over to the back to retrieve something, if you’ll excuse me.”

When he disappeared behind the door that led to the back of the shop, silence fell over the two boys. Jaebeom wasn’t a friend of small talk, but thankfully the other picked up on it somehow.

“We’ll be open from 1 to 6 pm today,” he said as he began pulling out yet more books from the box. “If we finish setting everything up before, that is.”

“Want me to help?”

The boy looked up, shaking his bangs out of his eyes. He gave Jaebeom another bright smile.

“I’d appreciate that a lot.”

That was how Jaebeom got to know Youngjae, a 19-year-old boy who had moved into that little coastal town from the big city because rent prices were increasing and money was tight.

“Living here is much cheaper,” he explained as he and Jaebeom unpacked more and more books. “And the views are amazing.”

“I’m sure the city’s views are not so bad either,” Jaebeom said, feeling surprisingly comfortable despite having only just met. “Here you only have cliffs, sea and hills of endless green.”

“You make it sound so boring,” Youngjae said with a laugh. “It’s really not. I like it here so far.”

It became quiet then, but not the uneasy kind of quiet. Both boys fell into a comfortable silence as they arranged the books on the shelves that were still empty, until Jaebeom noticed that Youngjae kept looking at his hands. He glanced down at them once, then over at Youngjae again.

“What’s the matter?”

Youngjae blinked.

“Oh, nothing. I just… are you a fisherman?”

Jaebeom looked at his hands again. They were pale and looked a bit battered, the skin around his knuckles dry and reddened, his fingers calloused after holding and tugging at the nets.

“Kind of, yeah. My dad has a boat. I work with him.” He shrugged. “Or rather, for him.”

Youngjae nodded, the ghost of a smile playing along his lips.

“I see. Do you like it?” he asked.

Jaebeom took his time to think over the answer for that one.

“I do,” he concluded, “although I never questioned it much. It’s my family’s business and I’m an only child.”

“It must be a big effort, though.”

“It is.”

Waking up at 3 am in January to jump into a boat and sailing ice cold waters wasn’t exactly Jaebeom’s cup of tea, but he’d found he didn’t mind it as much as he’d originally thought. He’d been given a choice at the age of eighteen, though. His father had told him that he could keep studying if he really wanted to, even if it meant tightening their belts for a while and applying for a scholarship. Jaebeom had declined, deeming it selfish to move to the city to go to university and leaving his parents swamped with even more debt, and ultimately stayed in town.

He helped Youngjae with the books until they were all stacked in the shelves as neatly as possible, sorted by category. It was already 1:30 pm when they finished, so Youngjae’s dad told them to get a break and grab something to eat.

“You’ve been working the whole morning, you deserve it,” he said when Youngjae protested.

“But you’ll be all alone in the shop. Will you be able to handle all the clients yourself?” Youngjae teased as he slipped on his coat. 

“I think I’ll manage,” his dad retorted, a smirk on his lips. He nodded towards the door. “Go.”

Jaebeom put on his black beanie when they stepped out. It was still cold despite being sunny, and Youngjae absently wrapped a woollen scarf around his neck.

“You can go home if you want, you know,” he told Jaebeom. “If you have stuff to do, I don’t want to keep you.”

Jaebeom couldn’t help the smile that tugged at his lips. Being with Youngjae was easy, so much that he didn’t find the thought of them becoming friends completely horrible. He did have some things to do, but they could easily wait.

“I’m fine. My work for today is done, we went fishing this morning already.”

“Really? I feel a bit bad now that I made you help me unpack all those books.” Youngjae stopped walking and turned to give Jaebeom a bright smile. “Come to mine. My mum made some kimchi stew last night, and there will surely be rice and stuff.”

“Youngjae, but--”

“No buts. Take it as a thank you meal from me.” Youngjae shook his head and grabbed Jaebeom’s hand without hesitation.

Youngjae’s house was right down the road from Jaebeom’s. It was small and there were still a few boxes lying around when they entered and toed their shoes off at the door.

“I’m here!” Youngjae called, but nobody replied. “Mum?”

Jaebeom waited politely behind him while he went into the kitchen and the sitting room, looking around and scratching his head.

“That’s weird, I thought she’d be home.”

“Maybe she had to leave,” Jaebeom suggested.

“Maybe. Don’t stay there though, come on in,” Youngjae gestured for him to come closer. “Sorry for the mess, we’re still getting settled. Let’s eat.”

Jaebeom nodded and followed him into the kitchen, looking around and smiling at how cosy the place already felt despite not being fully furnished yet. There was a picture stuck to the fridge—a father and a mother were hugging their little son, who was smiling brightly and was holding a tiny white puppy in his hands. They looked incredibly happy. There was also a post-it note right beside it that read:

_Youngjae, I’m going to the shop to help dad. There’s rice, stew and more side dishes in the fridge. Eat a lot!_

_Love you,_

_Mum._

“Hey, your mum left a note.”

Youngjae turned to him with a hum.

“Oh, I didn’t see that. I wanted you to meet her, but I suppose it’ll have to be some other day,” he grinned. “Anyway, are you hungry?”

Jaebeom smiled back.

“Starving.”

After eating, they headed upstairs to Youngjae’s bedroom. The weak winter sunlight seeped through the curtains, coating the room in a soft shade of yellow that made Jaebeom feel warm.

“This is my room,” Youngjae said. “It’s not very tidy, sorry, but I’m still arranging everything.”

“Looks nice to me. May I?” Jaebeom pointed at the shelves, and Youngjae nodded, his face lighting up with a smile.

“Yeah, of course.”

They approached the bookshelves where a large number of novels, comic books and cassette tapes were stacked randomly. Jaebeom reached up and pulled out a tape, eyeing it with curiosity.

“This is one of my favourites,” he murmured. “You like them too?”

Youngjae nodded.

“Yeah. I listen to this one pretty often,” he said. “Even more so since I got a Walkman for my birthday, back in September.”

“My dad bought me one too, a few weeks ago for my own birthday,” Jaebeom replied with a small smile. “Don’t have much time to listen to music, but I like being able to listen to it… by myself.”

Youngjae hummed, gently taking the cassette from his hands and putting it on a tape player on his desk. He closed the lid and pressed play.

“You look like you like to do lots of things by yourself,” he said, motioning for Jaebeom to sit down on the floor with him.

“I do. I’ve got no siblings and my friends all fled from this place as soon as they got the chance, so I grew to like it.”

“You still keep in contact, though?”

Jaebeom shrugged a shoulder, remembering the last letter he’d received from Jinyoung. It had been on Christmas.

“Sometimes.”

They rested their backs against the side of the bed, stretching out their legs. Jaebeom’s foot bumped slightly against one of the boxes, which had ‘CLOTHES’ written in black marker on the lid. _Linger_ by The Cranberries began to play, and Youngjae sighed beside him.

“That song’s my favourite,” he said.

“Mine too,” Jaebeom agreed.

When he got home that night, there was a big, goofy grin on his face. It stayed there until after dinner, when his mother caught him in the kitchen rinsing the plates and bowls.

“What’s got into you?” she asked, taking a towel and drying them next to him.

“What? Nothing.”

“You keep smiling. Did anything nice happen?”

“Nothing out of the ordinary,” Jaebeom quickly said, wiping his hands on a dirty cloth. He clicked his tongue, chuckling. “I just had a good day, mum. I’m going to my room.”

The grin was still there when he slipped into bed and turned his bedside lamp off.

It started just like that. Jaebeom and Youngjae fell into a routine of seeing each other almost every day, for one reason or another, comfortably adjusting to each other. Jaebeom went fishing with his father every day before the sun rose, but as soon as they were done and all the fish had been dropped off at the market, he went straight home to shower and change before visiting Youngjae at the bookshop.

Ever since they listened to The Cranberries in Youngjae’s room, they’d made it a sort of routine to bring their Walkmans and tapes everywhere they went to show each other new music.

“You like Fleetwood Mac, too?” Jaebeom asked, surprised, as they were driving through town one afternoon.

Jindo was full of nice spots to watch the sea from, but Youngjae was sure the _best_ one was somewhere up a hill, where the road was bumpy and narrow. The map sat on his lap and he was studying it carefully, his brow furrowed.

“Of course I do,” he replied, humming along to _Everywhere_. “Mum and dad listened to them often and I was always around, so.” He gave Jaebeom a grin, lightly jumping in his seat as they hit a particularly big bump.

“My dad loves them,” Jaebeom said with a chuckle. “I told you to fasten your seatbelt.”

“I did, but it keeps unfastening itself.” Youngjae huffed. “Where’d you get this car from?”

“The repair shop. The guy said it’s second-hand. I think it’s third though, maybe fourth.” Jaebeom changed gears to speed up a little now that the road seemed a bit smoother. “What else do you like?”

“What?”

“I mean, we seem to have a lot in common when it comes to music,” Jaebeom explained, gesturing to the radio. “I’m curious to know if we like the same stuff, too.”

“Well,” Youngjae paused, “I like reading, obviously. And you do, too, I know. You’ve browsed through the entire bookshop more than twice already.” Jaebeom laughed sheepishly. “I like animals, especially dogs.”

“I prefer cats.”

“I thought you’d say you preferred fish.” Youngjae howled with laughter at his own silly joke.

“That’s probably the worst joke I’ve ever heard, get out of the car right now,” Jaebeom said, laughing despite himself as he pretended to push Youngjae towards the window.

“Sorry not sorry. Anyway, I like the mountains and the countryside. I like sunsets and studying the sky at night; figuring out where all the constellations are and such. I like food, all kinds of food… except cucumbers,” Youngjae continued. “I hate those motherfuckers.”

“Why? What did they ever do to you?”

“They gave me an allergy! I can’t even smell them.”

“Stupid fucks.”

They shared a smile.

“Wait, turn right!” Youngjae exclaimed, causing Jaebeom to jump slightly and do as he said, “we’re here!”

Jaebeom had to step on the brakes of his old car before it got too close to the small cliff they were now facing. Both he and Youngjae jerked forward, their seatbelts squeezing their chests before sending them back against their seats.

“Could have told me a little earlier.”

Youngjae smiled sheepishly.

“Come on, the sun is almost setting,” he urged, stepping out of the car.

Jaebeom fished out his disposable camera from the glove compartment before following him, and they stood by the edge of the cliff. It was pretty high, so it really was a nice spot to watch the sunset. Youngjae leaned against the front of the car, slipping his hands into his pockets, and Jaebeom didn’t think twice before he snapped a picture. Youngjae’s skin glowed like the golden sand on the beach, his long black locks falling over his eyes as he stared at the horizon. As soon as he heard the camera, he turned to Jaebeom with a surprised grin.

“Did you just take a picture of me?”

“Yup.”

Youngjae chuckled, then held out his hand towards Jaebeom.

“Then it’s only fair that I take one of you, too.”

“I don’t really like having my picture taken, I prefer to be on the other sid—,” he began, but Youngjae just clicked his tongue and snatched the camera from his hands. Before he knew it, he was trying to get it back and being photographed while doing so.

“There,” Youngjae said, eventually returning the camera, “show me when you’ve developed the film.”

Jaebeom took the chance to take a couple of pictures of the sea and the sunset, nodding at Youngjae’s request.

“Definitely.”

“What do you like?”

“What?”

Youngjae was looking at him instead of the sunset, his whole body turned towards him. There was a look of curiosity in his face.

“We were talking about the stuff we like,” he explained, “and I told you about the things I like, but you haven’t told me about the things you like. You wanted to know what we have in common, so what do you like?”

“Well,” Jaebeom chewed on his lip, resting his hip against the car, “I like music and books, too. I like the sea and its breeze, even though I spend way too much time in it.” He smiled. “But most of all, I like photography.” He flipped the disposable camera in his hand. “Taking pictures and developing them in my basement. I think I’m pretty good at it, but I want to improve.”

Youngjae leaned in a bit, his smile widening.

“Would you teach me how to develop pictures?”

Jaebeom smiled back. It was difficult not to; Youngjae had that kind of energy, a sort of gravity that inevitably pulled you in.

“Of course. We can develop these together.”

“Good.” Youngjae rested his head on Jaebeom’s shoulder. “I’m looking forward to it.”

And so weeks kept going by. Youngjae spent so much time at Jaebeom’s house and vice versa that both became regulars at each other’s homes. Jaebeom’s parents smiled at each other every time Jaebeom brought Youngjae up during their conversations, but they didn’t go any further than that, something Jaebeom was thankful for. 

He and Youngjae had developed the pictures they’d taken at the cliff in the little makeshift darkroom in his basement. Youngjae was an impressively quick and meticulous learner, making sure to follow every instruction Jaebeom gave him. Soon, the film was developed and hung to dry. What was most amazing to Jaebeom, though, was the look of pure joy in Youngjae’s face when he showed him the final result.

“They came out great!” he exclaimed as they went through them in Jaebeom’s room. “Well, this one’s a bit blurry, but you were moving too much.” He held up the picture he took while Jaebeom was trying to get his camera back. 

The next picture was Jaebeom’s personal favourite. It was just a simple photograph of Youngjae gazing at the sea, black strands of hair falling into his eyes and a small, peaceful smile on his face. The setting sun was somewhere to the left, out of frame, but its golden hues were reflected on Youngjae’s face. With a surprised hum, Youngjae picked up the photo and looked at it for a while. 

“This one,” he mumbled at last, “it’s... really good.”

“You think so?” 

“I mean, I’m no expert, but I look at it and I just think it’s beautiful. Everything about it is beautiful--the colours, the focus, the lighting.”

Jaebeom smiled at the compliment, his eyes crinkling. It may be one of the coldest winters in the last twenty years (or so the radio had said), but he’d never felt so warm inside. 

“You can keep it if you want,” he told Youngjae, but the other just shook his head and handed it back. 

“No, you keep it.” He smiled back. “It’s yours.” Then, with a flick of his hand, he picked up another (and better focused) picture of Jaebeom laughing at some silly joke, leaning against the front of the car. He’d taken that one right before they headed back home. “I’d like to keep this one instead, if that’s okay with you.” 

Jaebeom tried to ignore the backflip his heart just did. 

“Sure,” he nodded. “It’s yours.” 

The storm had been raging for the past two days, strong winds blowing from open sea. Jaebeom and his dad hadn’t been able to sail on Friday because of the terrible weather, and now he was stuck at home while his parents were driving off to a nearby town to visit his mother’s relatives for the weekend. 

“Whatever you do, don’t take your old car, it’s too dangerous to drive,” his father had told him. “And if you need anything, here’s your great aunt’s number. We’ll be staying with her.” 

Jaebeom had taken the slip of paper with a sigh. 

“I’ll be fine. You’ve left me with a whole month’s worth of food and supplies. It’s you guys that have to be careful on the road, dad.”

His mother had kissed him on the forehead. 

“You’ll look after yourself well, won’t you?” 

“I always have, mum. I’ll be okay,” he repeated. “Go before the storm gets worse and call when you get there.” 

Thankfully, the expected phone call had come about two and a half hours later. The journey usually took a little over an hour, but with the weather the roads were slippery and dangerous, and some of them had even been closed because of floods and landslides. However, his parents had got to his great aunt’s home without much trouble and were alright, so Jaebeom had nothing to worry about. After hanging up, he checked that all the windows and doors were locked and sat down to read under the flickering light of his nightstand. He didn’t know how long it had been when the sound of the phone ringing echoed through the house, making him jump and drop his book. 

“Christ,” Jaebeom murmured, getting to his feet and running downstairs to get the call. Maybe his parents had forgotten something. “Hello?” 

“Hello, Jaebeom?” 

“Youngjae?” 

The line flickered as Youngjae let out a soft sigh. 

“Yeah, how are you doing?” 

“I’m good,” Jaebeom answered, slightly confused. “Is everything alright?” 

“Yes, why wouldn’t it be?” 

“Well, because you’re calling me at exactly 11:37 pm.” 

Youngjae laughed nervously. 

“Okay, fine. I knew you’d be awake and I can’t sleep because the storm is freaking me out. Happy?” he admitted. 

There was a loud clap of thunder and Jaebeom could feel Youngjae jumping and shifting against the phone. 

“Hey, it’s okay,” he tried to reassure the other, “you can talk to me.” 

“Aren’t your parents asleep?” 

“They’re away for the weekend, but they’re fine. Yours?” 

“They’re upstairs,” Youngjae swallowed. “I doubt they can hear me but I didn’t want to wake them, so I came down here with my Walkman to try and distract myself with some music. The storm is too strong, though,” he mumbled. “I’ve never really liked thunderstorms.” 

“Forget about it and talk to me,” Jaebeom said, taking the phone and moving it to the coffee table so he could sit on the sofa. “Are you reading anything lately? Discovered some super amazing song or band you want to tell me about?” 

“Well, not really. I keep listening to the same old shit,” Youngjae replied with a soft laugh. “Besides, the radio hasn’t been working properly, so I can’t say I’ve heard anything new. As for books, though,” he hummed, thoughtful, “do comic books count?”

“Of course they do.”

Youngjae started talking about the latest comic book series he’d been reading, and Jaebeom could tell he was glad to be able to talk to someone and get his mind off the storm, even if it was for a little while. He was secretly happy to be the person Youngjae had chosen to call.

“Are you reading anything good lately? You always have your nose in a book,” Youngjae said, voice a little more calm. 

“I believe the term you’re looking for is _bookworm_ ,” Jaebeom teased, earning a soft laugh from his friend. “But yeah, actually, I’m reading quite an interesting book. I think it’s beautifully written. Wanna hear a paragraph I underlined?” 

“I’d love to.” 

Jaebeom went upstairs to grab the book he’d been reading and brought it back to his spot on the sofa. He placed the phone between his ear and shoulder as he flipped through the pages, looking for the paragraph he’d marked just a few days prior. It had reminded him of Youngjae. 

“Here.” He cleared his throat before he started reading in a soft, steady voice. _"There’s a Greek legend—no, it’s in something Plato wrote—about how true lovers are really two halves of the same person. It says that people wander around searching for their other half, and when they find him or her, they are finally whole and perfect. The thing that gets me is that the story says that originally all people were really pairs of people, joined back to back, and that some of the pairs were man and man, some woman and woman, and others man and woman. What happened was that all of these double people went to war with the gods, and the gods, to punish them, split them all in two. That’s why some lovers are heterosexual and some are homosexual, female and female, or male and male."_

Youngjae stayed silent for a moment. 

“Do you believe in that?” he asked. “Do you think they truly exist? Soulmates, I mean.” 

Jaebeom gave himself a little time to think. If someone had asked him if he believed in soulmates six months prior, he’d have laughed out loud in their face at the silly idea, but after meeting Youngjae and spending nearly every day with him for the past two months, his opinion on the matter had surely changed. 

“I do,” he finally said. “I don’t know about the whole ‘being destined to be together even before birth’ thing, but I do think soulmates exist. Maybe we’re all looking for ours even without realising we are.” 

“And what if some soulmates never meet in their whole lives?” Youngjae wondered aloud. 

“I suppose they have many other lives to meet in.” 

It was quiet for a few moments, the rain clattering against Jaebeom’s windows. He curled up a bit more on the sofa, book clutched against his chest. 

“I had a best friend when I was little,” Youngjae began suddenly. “He was from Jindo, too. We used to play football on the beach every day after school. I used to stay at his house for the weekend and we would stay inside and play pirates if the weather was bad.” He paused, but Jaebeom didn’t say anything, patiently waiting for him to continue whenever he was ready. “One day, he stopped coming to school. I thought he’d moved out without telling anyone, but when my mum picked me up that day, she told me he’d--passed away. Drowned in the sea, not far from the docks. He couldn’t swim.” 

There was a long pause. Youngjae took a deep breath. 

“That’s why you’ve been going to the docks,” Jaebeom mumbled. 

Youngjae was the figure he’d been seeing intermittently when he returned from the sea with his dad. 

“Yeah,” the other admitted. “I felt like I had to go there, although I’m scared shitless of water. Well, not water in general, but the sea and storms frighten me. It was worse when I was little; I didn’t even want to take a bath by myself. I was scared I’d drown, too.” 

Jaebeom felt his heart squeeze in his chest. He wished he could reach out and wrap Youngjae in a tight hug; comfort him somehow.

“Youngjae, I’m sorry,” he murmured, “It must have been so hard.” 

“Not just for me, but my parents, too. We eventually had to move to Seoul because I couldn’t stand the sight of the sea anymore.” Youngjae swallowed. “I must admit I didn’t want to come back to Jindo after so long because I knew the painful memories would return, and they did, but... I also met you.” There was a hint of a smile in his soft voice. “And it was like all the bad stuff vanished, you know?”

And Jaebeom knew.

“Yes.” He smiled, hoping Youngjae would notice. “It was like that for me, too.” 

“Really?” 

“Yeah.” Jaebeom couldn’t find the right words to express how good Youngjae made him feel. It was like nothing he could say could ever do his feelings justice. However, he managed to find something that was quite close. “When I’m with you, I feel real.” 

“What do you mean?” 

“Just... that. I feel like I’m a real person, with real dreams and real thoughts. You make me feel seen, heard.”

He could hear the rain over on Youngjae's end of the line, tapping against what was probably the kitchen window. The phone in Youngjae's house was in the kitchen. The silence stretched for so long that Jaebeom started feeling a bit uneasy.

“Sorry, I just--”

“No, no,” Youngjae suddenly blurted out, “sorry. Oh, god, I didn't even realise I’d gone silent. Sorry, I just didn't know what to say. I'm literally speechless.” He let out a soft laugh. “I thought I was the only one who felt like that.”

Jaebeom laughed, relieved. 

“I thought the same.” He pressed his face a little tighter against the phone, although he was mostly unaware of the gesture. “I honestly feel so much better now. Didn’t know how you’d react.” 

“I feel like I could go out there right now and face the storm all by myself just to kiss you.”

If there was one thing about Youngjae that Jaebeom liked, it was his bluntness. He was never afraid of speaking his mind and always seemed to know just the way to do so, choosing the right words and adjusting the level of politeness depending on who he was speaking to. With Jaebeom, he’d been honest and open from the very start, except for the reason why his family had left Jindo in the first place. He understood why it was difficult for Youngjae to talk about it, though. 

“Well, I’m right down the street. We could meet halfway,” Jaebeom offered.

“I’m gonna grab my raincoat,” Youngjae said after a beat, the phone rustling. “See you in five outside.”

Jaebeom was about to stop and tell Youngjae he’d been joking, but he knew Youngjae wasn’t. And the idea of kissing him in the middle of a thunderstorm, or wherever really, was too exciting and appealing to let it go. So he hung up, rushed to his room, threw on a hoodie and his own raincoat and went outside without thinking twice. 

The wind was howling, bending the trees and shaking the lampposts, and the rain was so heavy it was almost impossible to see the end of the street. Jaebeom was soaked to the bone in less than two minutes, but as soon as a hooded figure tackled him with such force that it almost threw him off balance, he seemed to regain some of his warmth. He recognised Youngjae immediately--the smell of fresh cotton, sea salt and crisp spring air. They wrapped their arms around each other and wobbled a little, trying not to fall off, giggles erupting from their throats. 

“You came out,” Jaebeom murmured, pulling back a little to see Youngjae’s face under the light of the nearest lamppost. “You came out here and braved the storm.”

“I know,” the other replied, his eyes sparkling with energy. “Couldn't have done it without you, though.”

Jaebeom pulled him close, pressing their lips together in a long kiss. Youngjae’s mouth was warm, soft and wet with raindrops. He placed his hands on both sides of Jaebeom’s face as they kissed, as if wanting to hold him in place. Time seemed to slow down to a stop around them, the sound of the rain clattering against the parked cars becoming more and more distant. 

Jaebeom was sure nothing he experienced in his life, from that moment onwards, would ever be as perfect as that moment. 

“Pass me another tissue,” Youngjae asked, motioning for the box with his hand. 

From his position on the other end of the sofa, Jaebeom turned, coughing and making sure to stay under the blanket as much as possible, then handed him the tissue box. He watched as Youngjae blew his nose several times before throwing his head back against a cushion. 

“I can’t believe you two caught such a big cold,” Youngjae’s mother said with a soft tut, placing a tray with two cups of hot ginger lemon tea on the coffee table. “What were you thinking?” 

“I told you, mum, we wanted to take pictures of the storm,” Youngjae repeated. 

Jaebeom reached for one of the cups, thanking Mrs Choi with a nod. 

“I’ve always liked beautiful photographs of storms on the sea, with huge black clouds looming over the water and lightning striking over the horizon,” he explained, his nose feeling stuffy. “I wanted to take some like those.” 

It was a blatant lie, of course. They weren’t going to say they’d sneaked out just to snog and had caught a terrible cold after getting soaked in the rain. 

“You guys could have done that from home, though,” she told them, giving them a look. “Anyway, drink your tea before it gets cold. I’ve got to go get some stuff from the pharmacy, there’s food in the kitchen. Rest up, boys.” 

She left them alone in Youngjae’s living room, each of them wrapped in a thick blanket. They’d got a fever, sore throat, cough and stuffy nose--the whole pack. Jaebeom had suggested watching _Jurassic Park,_ but Youngjae kept dozing off because of the fever. As soon as Mrs Choi was gone, though, they shared a look and started giggling like schoolboys. 

“Pictures of the storm? Really?” Jaebeom raised an eyebrow. 

“It was the first thing that came to my mind. What would you have said, huh?” 

“No, no, I think it was pretty convincing.” Jaebeom sipped his tea, grimacing a little at the amount of ginger he tasted. “The truth is ours, and ours only.” 

Youngjae hummed in agreement before setting down his mug and shifting to lie on top of Jaebeom, his head resting on the other’s chest. Jaebeom let out a soft sigh at the weight and warmth of Youngjae's body against his and slowly brought a hand up to run it through his hair.

“The truth is ours,” Youngjae echoed. “Do you know how I feel, how I feel about you?” he started singing softly, voice muffled by Jaebeom’s hoodie. “Do you know this is real?”

“How I feel around you...” Jaebeom carried on, smiling. “I love that song.”

 _"Nowhere near,"_ Youngjae mumbled. “One of my favourite songs ever.”

“I know. You put it in the mixtape you made me last week and literally wrote ‘I fucking love this song’ next to the title.” 

Youngjae laughed, shoulders shaking and chest vibrating against Jaebeom’s. 

“What can I say, I really _fucking_ love that song.” 

“Hey,” Jaebeom murmured after a long silence, watching as Youngjae stared at the dinosaurs on the telly, “want to go for a drive?” 

Youngjae looked up at him, a sparkle in his eyes. 

“It’s almost 10 pm.”

“And?” 

“And we have a fever, we’re probably high on cough syrup.”

“So?”

Youngjae grinned, then quickly moved off him and tugged at his hand. 

“You’re mad as a hatter. Let’s go.”

They put on their coats and shoes and ran out into the damp, cold night. Jaebeom sighed upon feeling the cool breeze against his flushed cheeks, the daze in his mind fading a little bit. They got in the car, he started the engine and felt a rush of adrenaline as Youngjae gripped his hand tightly. 

“Let’s drive,” he said, kissing him with a soft laugh. Jaebeom could feel the excitement in the way their lips pressed against each other. 

With no particular destination in mind, he started driving. Youngjae saw there was a tape in the cassette player so he just reached out and pressed play. It was the mixtape he’d made for Jaebeom, and he grinned upon realising. 

“You’ve been listening to it?” he asked. 

“Of course I have. It’s my favourite tape.” 

Youngjae only smiled in response, making himself comfortable on the passenger seat as Roxette’s _Sleeping in my car_ started playing. They were soon driving out of town, everything dark and silent except for the lampposts and the distant sound of the sea. Even without seeing it, just listening from afar, Jaebeom could tell the waters were rough. He rolled his window down and so did Youngjae, letting the breeze in. It messed up their hair and brought in the salty smell of the sea, making Jaebeom feel like he was literally floating. Youngjae started singing along to the song at the top of his lungs and Jaebeom soon joined in, singing so loudly his throat hurt. He had never felt so alive. 

“Look, there’s a full moon!” Youngjae suddenly exclaimed, pointing at the sky. 

Jaebeom turned and glanced out the window, spotting it to his left, full and big and white, shining over the dark sea like a huge, silver light bulb. 

“There’s a disposable camera in the glove box,” he told Youngjae. “Snap a picture, quick!” 

Youngjae rummaged through the glove box until he found the camera and, leaning a bit over Jaebeom to get a good shot, took a couple pictures. 

“They’ll probably come out blurry,” he pouted. 

“It’s fine, they’ll still be perfect.” Jaebeom smiled. “They’ll remind us of tonight.” 

They parked the car in one of the cliffs after a while. It wasn’t the same one where they’d taken pictures of each other and the sunset--this one was not so high up the mountain and they got a better view of the sea instead of the town. Jaebeom turned off the engine and the lights, and suddenly it was darker than ever. The music kept playing, though, the soft melody of _Linger_ merging with the sound of the waves below. 

Youngjae sighed beside him, grabbing his hand again, though more tightly this time. 

“Do you want to stay here?” he asked, intertwining their fingers. 

“What do you mean?” Jaebeom turned his head towards him.

“I mean if you plan on spending the rest of you life here in Jindo.” 

“I’d never thought about it until I met you,” Jaebeom admitted, “and I got back into photography. I’ve always been told I’d work as a fisherman, helping my dad and all, but now I’ve realised that’s…” he paused, shaking his head, “that’s not what I want to do.” 

“I still don’t know what I want to do,” Youngjae said. “But I _do_ know I don’t want to stay here. I feel like I want to do something big, and Jindo is just… small.” 

“Yeah,” Jaebeom nodded, looking over at the moon. “I feel the same.” There was a long pause, during which he sighed and finally dared to say it out loud. “I’d like to be a professional photographer.” 

He’d never told anyone, not even his parents. They knew he liked to take pictures, but they thought it was just a hobby. 

“You’re incredibly good with the camera,” Youngjae replied, squeezing his hand again. “You could become one.” 

“It was because of you. Spending time with you, taking photos, developing them… you’ve always cheered me on and never talked about how important or necessary fishing is.” Jaebeom brought Youngjae’s hand up to his lips and kissed his knuckles. “I’m so grateful.” 

Youngjae smiled warmly, leaning over to peck his lips a few times. 

“Whatever you decide to do, Jaebeom, I’ll follow you,” he promised. “I won’t leave you.”

“If there’s one thing I’m sure of right now, it’s that I love you,” Jaebeom blurted out, his chest tight with emotion, “and that I love photography and everything that has to do with it. I want to devote my life and my career to it.” 

“I love you too.” Youngjae’s voice was so soft and so close; he’d barely moved away after the kiss. “Would your parents be okay with it, though? If we decided to leave?” 

“I don’t know. What about yours?” 

“I have no idea. But if there’s one thing I know for sure,” Youngjae replied, smiling as he echoed Jaebeom’s words, “it’s that our dreams are too big for this small town, and we might have to leave if we want to chase them.”

The waves crashed against the rocks and Jaebeom listened intently for a good moment, just taking everything in. 

“You’re right,” he murmured eventually. They weren’t getting any younger, and his dad had more people who worked with him on the boat. They’d be fine. 

“I’ll be okay as long as I’m with you,” Youngjae murmured in reply, his voice low but his tone determined. “Wherever we go, whatever we do. If I’m with you, I’ll be happy.” 

Jaebeom turned towards him, cupped his face with his palms and placed kisses all over it--forehead, eyebrow, nose, cheek, lips, chin, jaw. The song changed and _Nowhere near,_ Youngjae’s favourite track, started playing as they kept kissing, as if wanting to seal a promise. 

**Author's Note:**

> I've been meaning to write a 90s AU (I just love the concept, the aesthetics, the music... pretty much everything) and 2jae is one of my fave ships so finally HERE IT IS
> 
> It's taken me ages to get my muse back (even if it's not completely back yet) because real life hasn't been easy on me lately, but I've enjoyed writing this so much, and I'm glad to be able to publish something that's actually finished lol. 
> 
> Hope y'all enjoy this fluffy 90s 2jae fic about two boys with very big dreams living in a very small town ♡ thanks so much for reading!
> 
> PS.(1) The excerpt Jaebeom reads to Youngjae is from the book _Annie on My Mind_ by Nancy Garden. I haven't read it (even though it's been on my to-read list for a while now), but I thought the fragment was quite fitting <3  
> PS. (2) You can find me on [twitter](https://twitter.com/sunnnyjae) too!


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